


the land of dreams

by chininiris



Category: Fire Emblem: Fuukasetsugetsu | Fire Emblem: Three Houses
Genre: Ambiguous Route (Fire Emblem: Three Houses), Established Relationship, F/M, Family Fluff, Fluff, Post-Canon
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-01-31
Updated: 2021-01-31
Packaged: 2021-03-17 07:01:33
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,683
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29096205
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/chininiris/pseuds/chininiris
Summary: Byleth closes the book and sets it on the nearby table, standing from the chair with a blanket around her shoulders as the other falls to pool around her feet. She smiles at him, leaning up to brush her lips against his sweetly, smiling against his mouth. “Welcome home,” she greets quietly, tucking herself under his unnocupied arm. “I thought you had forgotten about little old me.”“As if I could ever.” Seteth rolls his eyes, then smiles at her fondly, leaning down to peck her cheek. She smiles widely at him, arms wrapped around his waist. “Why’s the little one still awake?”My contribution to Courage, My Love, A Setleth Zine.
Relationships: My Unit | Byleth/Seteth
Comments: 3
Kudos: 26
Collections: Courage My Love: A Setleth Zine





	the land of dreams

**Author's Note:**

> *skids in in my socks* hello, pals! It's been *checks calendar* freaking forever, would you believe that? But we have more interesting stuff to talk about today, so I'll hold my tongue for a bit akjhajkfa
> 
> This is my piece for [Courage, My Love](https://twitter.com/setlethzine), which was an absolute honor to be part of! It's the first zine I was ever accepted into, so I was pretty excited and nervous ahfkj
> 
> Title is from [Fall Out Boy - Lullabye](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=B6VLmVvdRv8&ab_channel=MoonlightPwincess1)
> 
> I hope you'll find this enjoyable! We'll be seeing each other once I tame this writer's block into proper submission. Peace!

When the bell of the cathedral strikes ten in the night, Seteth knows he should stop working for now. In all the years since his arrival in Garreg Mach, there was not a single night when he would not work over hours, but lately he’s been making an effort to leave his office at a reasonable time. 

Shutting the book with a soft thud, he perches his quill in its holder and takes the candlestick in hand to illuminate the way. Of course, he could easily navigate the halls in the dark, both due to having already memorized the path and the nature of his eyes, but it’s best if he continues to not do anything that might raise suspicion. Fódlan may be at peace for now, but he won’t be letting his guard down any time soon.

The royal chambers aren’t so far from his office. On the third floor and once occupied by Lady Rhea herself, Seteth spots a dim orange light glowing from beneath the door, a sign that his wife is still awake. It shouldn’t surprise him that Byleth is waiting for him, and as much as he appreciates the gesture, he wishes she would get more sleep. 

Then again, that wish might be a bit hypocritical coming from him. 

On the off chance that she’s actually fallen asleep, he takes hold of the doorknob and pushes the door open as quietly as he can, stepping into the room without making a sound. 

With winter steadily approaching, the flames burn bright in the fireplace to keep the room cozy and warm, casting colors on the white sheets and the canopy of the bed. Their resting place is empty, though the beddings are wrinkled from a previous moment in time. Seteth closes the door behind his back and sets the candlestick down on the nearest flat surface, working on his cuffs as he takes notice of the small sitting area by the hearth. 

In one of the armchairs sits Byleth, a blanket wrapped around her shoulders and another wrapped around her legs. His sensitive ears pick up the gentle whisper of her voice, the words becoming clearer the more he focuses on them. 

“Despite its fears, the young deer stepped into the woods in search of its friend...” 

The tips of his ears twitch, his interest piqued. It’s an old one, but Seteth recognizes this tale as his own. Over the years, he wrote and rewrote stories as a means to keep himself distracted and occupied when hope seemed lost and the idea of a happy future was bleak. This might be a newer copy, but the original draft is from many decades ago when Flayn was still caught between bouts of sleep and fits of wakefulness. 

Byleth isn’t one to read aloud, unless she’s reading the contents of a letter or a bedtime story, so it can only mean someone very special has been keeping her company in his absence. 

Inching closer, he finally sees it from over the backrest of the armchair, a mop of light green hair tucked into his wife’s neck, the small frame of his youngest daughter, Niamh, curled up into her mother’s side under the blanket. 

His wife continues to read, oblivious to his presence. “The shadows in the forest were long and dark, so scary it made the young deer tremble with fear. And yet it pressed on, bravely venturing through the trees and bushes.” 

He smiles as the rustle of a turning page fills the air. It still amazes him, sometimes, the course his life has taken over the centuries. Seteth certainly had not expected that, one day, he would ever fall in love again, or have another child. Yet here he is, a ring around his finger, and another beautiful little creature that carries his blood to hold and love. 

His wife is marvelous on her own. To think he’s fallen for the one he had once been so suspicious of, the one who had stood out like a sore thumb, but still won over the students and, eventually, himself.

Seteth rolls his sleeves up his arms as he approaches Byleth. “Soon, the deer came across a cave and decided to go inside,” she continues in a low murmur and, from this angle, he can see the tip of her nose and curve of her cheekbones highlighted by the fire. “And then... It turned into a dragon!”

He halts in his steps, furrowing his brow. That’s not how the story goes; he would know. He wrote it himself. 

A quiet giggle accompanied by a snicker cut through his confusion, and Seteth can’t help the twitch of his eyebrows or the smile that tugs at his lips. His hands prop on his hips as the smaller figure on the armchair disentangles from her mother and rises up to look over the backrest at him, dark green eyes sparkling with mischief, but still droopy with sleep. 

“You were both trying to trick me, I see.” Niamh giggles again and raises her arms, and he wastes no time to close the distance between them and sweep her up into his own, pressing a kiss to her brow. 

Byleth closes the book and sets it on the nearby table, standing from the chair with a blanket around her shoulders as the other falls to pool around her feet. She smiles at him, leaning up to brush her lips against his sweetly, smiling against his mouth. “Welcome home,” she greets quietly, tucking herself under his unnocupied arm. “I thought you had forgotten about little old me.” 

“As if I could ever.” Seteth rolls his eyes, then smiles at her fondly, leaning down to peck her cheek. She smiles widely at him, arms wrapped around his waist. “Why’s the little one still awake?”

Byleth cranes her neck to look at their daughter, who now has her head resting on his shoulder. “She wanted to wait for you,” she explains, reaching out to caress Niamh’s tiny fingers. “It won’t be long until she falls asleep, though. She can barely keep her eyes open.”

He chuckles softly, trying to look down at their daughter, but failing due to the angle and close proximity. Byleth moves away to fold the blanket that had been left forgotten on the ground, and he takes the opportunity to comb his fingers through Niamh’s soft hair. It’s long enough now to hide the pointed tips of her ears, though he rather enjoys looking at them, a small reminder that his people will live on.

In the short moments it takes Byleth to fold the blankets and set them aside, Niamh has already been lulled to sleep, small hand clutching at his shirt loosely. She smiles at their daughter before planting a soft kiss on her temple, then turns her captivating eyes upon him. “That was quite the sweet tale you wrote.”

“Yes,” he agrees, shifting Niamh carefully in his arms, “until you had the deer turn into a dragon.” 

Her smile doesn’t widen, but he can see in her eyes that she’s laughing at him. “Just a small improvement, you know. To keep the Nabatean legacy alive.” 

“The Nabatean legacy is alive right here.” Seteth nods at their daughter, then rests his cheek on top of her head and sways in place. “There is no need to change my creations for that.”

Byleth laughs quietly and gives his arm a tender squeeze. “Yes, I know. I’m just messing with you.” 

“I know,” he replies, smiling softly. He really loves them, all three women in his life, and wouldn’t hesitate to give his life to save theirs. 

It’s both touching and worrying that Byleth would do the same.

With care, he moves their little girl to Byleth’s arms, who promptly tucks Niamh’s head into the crook of her neck as Seteth prepares for bed. He dresses down, folding his clothes and neatly setting them away, then wanders into the bathroom to quickly clean himself up. His hair and beard need a trim, and he makes a mental note to get it done this upcoming weekend. 

When he returns to the bedroom, Byleth has laid Niamh down in the middle of the bed, the covers snuggly pulled up to her chin. She’s lying beside their daughter, head propped on a hand and eyes closed as she hums a soft melody under her breath, a traditional Nabatean lullaby he taught her at the beginning of their courtship. 

“You’re going to spoil her,” he warns, slipping under the covers on his side of the bed.

Byleth stops humming to let scoff, opening her eyes a sliver to look at him from beneath her lashes. “That’s rich coming from you, my love.” Well, he supposes that is also hypocritical coming from him. Niamh has him wrapped around her tiny fingers.

Seteth gives her a mild disapproving glance with no real heat behind it and settles down on the bed, Byleth doing the same. “I got a letter from Flayn,” he says, turning on his side and resting his hand on Niamh’s stomach, smiling when Byleth puts her own over his. “She should be arriving at Garreg Mach within a few days.” 

“That’s great news.” Byleth sighs softly and closes her eyes, and he takes the opportunity to entwine their fingers together. “We haven’t seen her in a while. I miss her.”

“Yes,” he agrees softly, “and I am sure Niamh misses her too.” 

Byleth offers him a sleepy hum of acknowledgement, inching closer to the center of the bed, and he mimics her until Niamh is safely tucked between their bodies. Their eyes meet over Niamh’s head, Byleth’s gaze soft and watery from drowsiness. He rubs his thumb along the side of her hand gently, and her eyes slip shut as she begins humming the lullaby again.

It’s a cold night, Seteth reasons, closing his own eyes and joining his wife, their quiet voices filling the room over the crackle of the fire in the hearth. It’s okay if they spoil Niamh this once and sleep together like this. 

**Author's Note:**

> | [setleth playlist](https://open.spotify.com/playlist/1l7UmBixKoGFt7fDwKj32c?si=2r8rCCGKSlKzPfwOQib_fA) | [tumblr](https://chininiris.tumblr.com/) | [twitter](https://twitter.com/chininiris) | [carrd](https://chininiris.carrd.com/) |


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